Flight
by Rhed
Summary: It was as if the whole world fell away into a hazy void. He'd seen it almost every day of his young life, but never before had he really seen it. Not like this. And that was when he knew he had to try it.


_Hey all! Just trying out a character study here. Musical recommendation; __All That Makes Us Human Continues__ by BT- __ .com/watch?v=P7bdECd3pQ0__ (take out the spaces. doesn't particularly like outside links, sorry.)_

Far.

It was as if the whole world fell away into a hazy void. He'd seen it almost every day of his young life, but never before had he really _seen_ it. Not like this. And that was when he knew he had to try it.

Aang was much too young to fly. The gliders were built for boys nearly twice his height, never mind several years farther into their training, but these thoughts never entered the young airbender's mind. All it took was a glimpse of the sun as it shone like a flat, perfect disk through the fabric of one of the older boy's gliders. Aang was already good at jumping, better than his peers at using bending to propel himself farther and soften his landings. Flying couldn't be that hard right? You just had to jump, and then not fall. Aang wasn't entirely sure how to get around the second part there, but he was pretty sure he'd figure it out.

And so, while the older monks started to take care of the myriad tasks that need doing before that evening's meal, Aang crept into the store room. It was not the way of the Air Nomads to posses many things, and what objects a monk might posses on a personal level tended to be heirlooms of teachers and friends passed on. Gliders, however, were special. It was best if your glider was made custom, with your habits, your shape, your tendencies in mind. Minor changes sometimes made all the difference when bank of fog obscured rock or a storm wind blew. But Aang was young, and talented or not, it would be quite some time before the monks would start thinking about building him a glider.

Aang stepped into the dusty store room. At least, he was pretty sure that's where he was. He had taken a great many turns, was lost twice, and ended up in a part of the temple he was unfamiliar with. The last bit almost impressed him- he knew the temple like the back of his hand. Better, really.

The only light in the room filtered in from a window behind Aang in the hall. The young boy had to put his shoulder into opening the door, and in doing so had disturbed a thick layer of dust that floated and swirled in the hazy light. Objects were placed reverentially in grottoes and side pockets, soft fabric, the glint of brass and bright lapis and every now and again the dull gleam of bone. Without knowing exactly why, Aang stopped in front of a mound of earth and clay tucked into the back of a fierce looking lion turtle statue. Ash lined the crevices of the carving and dark marks ran up the sides of the lion turtle's mouth where incense had burned too close or too long. Aang put his hands on the mound, again without knowing why. It was cool to the touch, but he couldn't shake the idea that it was warm.

Without thinking, he dug his fingers into the dried earth. It fell apart like the ashes of incense, and gave up its holdings. Dusty but preserved lay several objects. It was hard to make out what exactly they were by sight with the air so full of debris. He brushed away a concave object that clattered like bone as it hit the ground. Aang picked it up and tried to make it out. It was like a bowl, and carved with dancing skeletons and sky bison. He placed it back where it had lay before he disturbed it, and reached farther back into the grotto. Aang smiled as his hands closed around the oiled wooden shaft of a glider. It was much too big for him, hundreds of years old, possibly a sacred relic, but it called out to him none the less.

Aang held the glider like it was a living thing, an animal rescued from a dangerous place. The wood grain felt just right in his hands.

Later, he stood again on the edge of the earth. The sun had long since fallen and he'd missed supper entirely, but under the eye of the full moon he had always been more energized. Troublesome, the older monks would say. With a careful twirl, the young airbender unfurled the wings of his glider and leapt from the cliff.

It was about then that Aang realized he'd forgotten to devote much thought to the second part of flying, the part that comes after you jump off and forestalls the part where you hit the ground. For several seconds, all Aang could do was maintain a white knuckle grip on the ancient frame of the glider..and then, it took over.

His hands moved, his lungs worked, his whole body shifted with the invisible currents of the wind and for the first time ever, Aang flew. It was like a thousand things he'd dreamt it would be, and at the same time nothing like any of them. It wasn't enough to just stay airborne, no. Aang laughed and barely gagged at all when a bug accidentally shot into his open mouth. This was freedom.

Monk Gyatso was beginning to worry about his charge. The boy had always been a little unpredictable, more so on a full moon. The fact that Aang had missed dinner and was still yet to be found pushed things a little farther from normal. When Gyatso finally checked the outside of the temple, he had'nt expected to find Aang. Not out in cold autumn night. Not in the midst of his first flight, let alone his first unsupervised one...but..

As the wizened old man looked up, he couldn't help but notice the flat white disk of the full moon as it shone through the silhouette of his pupil's glider.


End file.
